


It’s All a Blur

by watchcatewrite



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anal Sex, Blurryface Era, Bottom Tyler, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk idiots, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time Blow Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Soft sex, Tattoos, Top Josh, married in vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchcatewrite/pseuds/watchcatewrite
Summary: “You really don’t remember?” Michael glances between the two of them, his face concerned.“Remember what?” Josh groans from the safe darkness of his hands.“You guys got married last night.”
Relationships: Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 16
Kudos: 135





	It’s All a Blur

**Author's Note:**

> God I love a cliché.

Josh feels like someone punched him in the head. 

Even with the curtains closed, the morning light peeking into his room is unbearable. Every turn of his head sends painful shocks down his spine, but he’s too scared to groan out loud, unsure what fresh hell that will unleash on his body. His head is heavy, throbbing, like someone’s taken hold of his brain and is squeezing repeatedly. Josh can’t remember the last time he’s ever been this miserable, and though he can’t recall whose idea it was to go out drinking last night, someone is definitely getting their ass kicked. 

When he can stand without his body crying out in protest, that is. 

It takes him a full minute to figure out that the solid weight next to him in bed is Tyler. That’s not surprising; they often end up sleeping in the same bed even when they’re not completely wasted. Josh thinks about reaching out to poke him, to spread the misery, but decides against it. He looks so peaceful in sleep, not a worry line to be seen, and Josh is envious. Why isn’t he asleep? Why is he the only one suffering through the morning?

There’s a tightness in his lower abdomen and suddenly he remembers: fuck, he needs to pee. 

As he turns to get out of the bed (_slowly_) he notices something strange on Tyler’s bare back. There’s a series of thick black lines, reminiscent of his arm bands, and Josh has to lean forward to make sense of them. Even less than a foot from his face it takes his addled brain a few minutes to make it out. The word “JUST” is written across Tyler’s shoulder blades, in what’s likely black sharpie. There’s no other marks, just the four letters, and Josh can’t make heads or tails of it. 

“Just” what? He’s too tired, in too much pain to consider it fully, and when his bladder clenches again he gives up. When his feet hit the floor it’s agony. Somehow it seems like his body can’t hold him up anymore? Like his muscles have atrophied in the night, and he’s too heavy to lug around. Is that even a thing? Has that happened to someone before? Or maybe Josh is some new medical malfunction to be studied. 

Each step is harder than the last. He expects to fall into some kind of rhythm, and his body will start cooperating but that doesn’t seem to be the case. The tile of the bathroom is cool under his feet and Josh lets out an audible sigh. He shuffles the last few feet to the toilet, glad he was smart enough to strip down to only his boxers the previous night. His whole body unclenches as he starts to urinate, and Josh finally feels some relief. 

He takes a moment after washing his hands to splash some cold water on his face. He and Tyler always make fun of those girls in face wash commercials, splashing themselves so artfully in a way that they know soaks the entire bathroom. This morning though, he understands. Josh wants to take handful after handful of water to his face, each time it hits giving him a brief moment of clarity. His head isn't throbbing quite so hard when he’s done and Josh thinks he might be able to handle the small amount of sunlight coming into their room. 

As he turns to shuffle back to bed his back faces the mirror for just a moment. He’s still too out of it to realize he has his own collection of dark marks scrawled between his shoulder blades, a temporary tattoo to match Tyler’s. His word, however, is longer, reaching almost past his shoulders and down his arms in the same block font. 

“MARRIED.”

* * *

Josh doesn’t remember falling back asleep, but all of a sudden the most horrible noise he’s ever heard is echoing through the room. Tyler sits straight up in bed, his entire body swinging back and forth as he tries to find the source of the noise, his hand smacking Josh right in the face. 

“Ow, fuck.” Josh’s hands go up immediately, sure that blood must be pouring from his nose but finds it dry. The noise is still going and Josh’s head is throbbing again. “Make it stop.”

“I’m trying.” Tyler sounds like he’s just finished gargling a gallon of salt water. Josh thinks his voice could probably cut him if they got close enough to each other. 

Tyler’s hands finally connect with the nightstand, knocking almost everything off it as he finally reaches his phone, the ensuing clatter making Josh’s teeth hurt. “Tyler—“

Josh sounds pathetic, his hands still over his face as he moans into his pillow. His whole body feels like it’s throbbing. Tyler finally hits something and the noise disappears. Josh almost cries from relief, but then Tyler’s talking, filling the silence again. Josh smacks at him softly, but even the arm movement takes too much effort and he stops. 

“Hello?” There’s a pause. “Dude, stop yelling. Please.”

Josh lifts his head from the pillow, glancing at Tyler’s dark form next him. “Yeah, we're gonna need like, an hour.”

Josh moans and buries his face in the pillow again, whispering quietly. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“Well then we’ll miss breakfast dude, fuck.” It’s another four letter word, but this one Josh understands: Tyler is really not happy.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Tyler finally falls silent and Josh lets the quiet settle over him. It doesn’t last long. “Mark says there’s a buffet. They’re downstairs.”

Josh groans loud and long, his face buried in the pillow. Tyler smacks him across the back with a resounding _ crack_. 

“Dude, stop. My head.”

“Fuck you.” Josh’s voice is muffled by the pillow but he knows Tyler can hear him. 

“Fuck you too, dude.” Tyler turns, his voice growing further away. “I need a shower.”

Tyler doesn’t slam the bathroom door behind him, thankfully, and with the first hiss of the shower spray Josh begrudgingly accepts that he has to get up. He turns as slowly as possible, pulling his body upright and sitting at the end of the bed for a moment while he wills the room to stop spinning. When it does he’s hit by that pain again, his bladder clenching. He doesn’t bother knocking, just lets himself into the bathroom. He’s seen Tyler naked before. 

“Dude.” Tyler gives a half-hearted protest from the glass walled shower, but neither of them pays much attention. “Why does it say ‘married’ on your back?”

“Hell if I know.” Tyler’s question stirs something in his brain, something Josh should remember, but it’s on the tip of his tongue and disappears just as quickly. “You done?”

Tyler nods slowly as he steps out of the shower, not bothering to turn off the water before Josh is stepping in. He grabs a towel from the rack, rubbing his hair as he exits and leaving it standing on edge. Josh has a fleeting thought that he looks cute, but then it’s gone, swallowed into his pickled brain. The water’s like splashing his face but 1000 times better, and Josh actively tries not to moan beneath the spray. 

When they get downstairs Mark, Brad, and Michael are all waiting for them. He and Tyler slide into seats as gingerly as possible and the three of them exchange shit-eating grins. Josh glances over at Tyler to see what all the fuss is about and realizes Tyler is wearing his sweatshirt. It doesn’t bother him, he’s pretty sure he’s wearing Tyler’s basketball shorts right now, but still. Josh reaches out a hand to tug at his sleeve. 

“You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“So?” Josh doesn’t have a good answer to that, so he falls silent. 

The other three as still staring at them, eyes bouncing between the two of them. Josh tries to keep up with where they’re looking but after the third pass his stomach lurches painfully and he gives up. A busboy stops by the table, filling their water glasses to the brim. Josh tries to say ‘thank you’ but his mouth feels so dry nothing comes out. He downs the entire glass in one gulp, and the busboy stares at him wide eyed as he fills it again. 

When he’s gone Tyler finally asks the question Josh has been trying to formulate. “What?”

All three of them glance amongst each other again, smiles growing wider. Mark is the one to speak. “We’re just curious how the happy couple spent their first night together.”

“Yeah.” Brad leans forward to balance his chin on top of his hands, eyelashes fluttering. “Like, did Tyler hold Josh’s hair while he puked, or was it the other way around?”

Michael nods excitedly and waves a hand at them. “Mhmm. And who got water for who? Tell. Us. Everything.”

Josh wants to punch them and he doesn’t even know why. “What are you talking about?”

“We just heard the first night could be really special. Especially when you’ve been saving yourself.” Mark looks more smug than Josh has ever seen him. 

“Saving yourself for what?” Tyler sounds just as exhausted with the whole thing as Josh feels. 

“Marriage, of course.” Brad rolls his eyes big, like they’re the stupidest people alive, and Josh really does consider punching him. 

“What are you guys talking about? C’mon my head hurts so much.” Josh’s head falls into his hands as if to illustrate his point and they all laugh. 

“You really don’t remember?” Michael glances between the two of them, his face concerned. 

“Remember what?” Josh groans from the safe darkness of his hands. 

“You guys got married last night.”

Josh lifts his head, his eyes wide as he looks at Mark. Out of the corner of his eye he can see that Tyler is doing the same, his face a mask of confusion. Did he just— Josh must have heard wrong. It’s the hangover, he can’t think straight, that’s what it is. Mark said something and Josh’s brain just short circuited. That’s all. 

“What?” Tyler’s peering at Mark through narrowed eyes. 

“You guys seriously don’t remember? You’re not just ruining our fun?” Mark looks concerned now, and Josh considers yelling at him if it wouldn’t make his head feel like it was slammed into the floor. 

“Remember what, you assholes?” Josh’s insult glides right off them. 

“You were both drunk, and Tyler got bored playing blackjack—“ Mark starts. 

“So you asked Josh what you should do next—“ Brad continues. 

“And Josh said you guys should get married because it would be ‘fucking hilarious, dude.’” Michael puts air quotes around the last three words and as Josh watches it all comes screaming back to him. 

“Oh my god.” Josh lowers his head to the table slowly, trying to anchor himself as his mind starts racing. 

Tyler sitting at a blackjack table, downing his Jack and coke with a flourish, proclaiming he was bored after losing his last chip. The five of them piling into an Uber, the driver asking who was the lucky fella. Both him and Tyler raising their hands before bursting out laughing. A guy in a white suit, with a pompadour hairstyle standing in front of an altar. Was that—was that Elvis? Did Elvis marry them?

“Oh my god.” It’s a groan, Josh’s voice reverberating against the wood. 

Tyler’s surprisingly silent at his side, staring off into space. Josh wonders which parts of the night are playing across his mind. Did they kiss when they got married? As soon as he starts to wonder it appears in front of him like a movie: Tyler dipping him almost all the way backward before laying one on him. Josh can’t remember if he enjoyed it but he can guess. His cheeks burn red. 

“We were wasted. How could you guys let us do that? How could _ Nevada _let us do that?” There’s no anger in Tyler’s voice, just bewilderment. 

“Josh said it would be funny, and it was.” Mark shrugs. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is _ we’re married_, Mark.” Tyler’s voice is still surprisingly level. 

“So?” Michael pipes up. “It’s just a piece of paper. We find a lawyer when we get home, explain what happened, and they’ll have it annulled before Twitter finds out.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t count on that. Drunk Brad thought this was something the clique definitely needed to know about.” Brad looks almost sheepish. 

“You’re kidding right?” Josh lifts his head just high enough to get out the words. 

“Yes, I’m kidding. But I did take pictures.”

“You didn’t say that! Share with the group, dude!” Michael attempts to grab Brad’s phone out of his hand but Brad manages to hold on to it. 

The rest of breakfast is spent pouring over Brad’s phone. The pictures aren’t up to his usual standards, but it’s understandable considering the state they were all in last night. Josh is mortified to find that there’s multiple pictures of the kiss, some of which seem to indicate he enjoyed it quite a bit. Tyler can’t help exclaiming when he sees their matching wedding outfits. 

“We got married in our skeleton hoodies!”

Mark nods. “Seemed only right. And they wanted $30 for a damn suit jacket rental.”

“The price of love.” Michael deadpans, and the three of them burst out laughing. 

Tyler joins in but Josh only smiles, trying not to think too hard about why his first impulse when drunk was to marry his best friend. 

* * *

No sooner do they roll back into town than Josh is face planting into his mattress. He thinks maybe if he sleeps for about two or three weeks he’ll finally feel normal again, though he doesn’t rule out the possibility of needing a full month. He knows he and Tyler will be back together again within less than 24 hours, but for a moment he enjoys having his own space, in his own apartment. Tour makes it easy to forget he’s his own person, when everything becomes _ him and Tyler_. 

The marriage had become the favorite joke over their last few weeks of tour, in a way that Josh knew would never die. He now couldn’t bring up a single idea without someone asking “well, have you talked to the missus about that?” Not even declarations of needing to pee were safe. Tyler was being surprisingly cool about the whole thing, laughing along most of the time, rather than getting frustrated or annoyed like Josh thought he might. Neither of them seemed to be in any big rush to find a lawyer. As obnoxious as the jokes had become nothing else had really changed, so neither of them saw the urgency. 

With the album doing as well as it was, and the momentum they needed to ride obvious, both had more important things to focus on. Rehearsals grew in frequency and before long they were planning out their next leg of the tour. Josh couldn’t keep up with the pace at which things moved now. He could remember how hard it was to scrape together a string of even five venues, and now they planned tours with 15-20 stops. Part of him aches for when it was simpler, when it was just the two of them in the back of the van, but he can’t help feeling excited as well. 

His anxiety reaches new heights the week before they leave. When he cancels on rehearsal because he feels like he can’t take a deep breath Tyler shows up on his doorstep, letting himself in without a second thought. His hand is warm and heavy on Josh’s back, the rhythmic motion giving him something to focus on. Somewhere he knows Mark and Brad are joking about Tyler being a dutiful wife and he feels like there’s a baseball stuck in his throat. He fixates on Tyler’s whispered words and tries to remember how to breathe, his head a swirling mass of confused thoughts. 

The marriage jokes are fewer this time around, the novelty having worn off. That is, until they all find out it still hasn’t been annulled. 

“I was kind of _ busy_. Planning a tour and giving you all a _ job_.” Tyler’s words are pointed, but no one takes him seriously. 

“The longer you wait the less likely they are to give you an annulment and make you get divorced instead.” Mark speaks with a certainty to his voice. 

“Is that true?” Josh leans over to whisper in Tyler’s ear, where they’re seated next to each other at the table on the bus. 

“How do _ you _know?” Tyler accuses him with narrowed eyes. 

Mark shrugs and Tyler laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

They don’t bring it up again but the next time Josh goes to check his phone Tyler’s number has been changed to “Wifey.” He stares at it for a good five minutes, finger hovering over the backspace key, before locking the phone and slipping it into his pocket. Tyler still finds it funny, Josh can find it funny too. He doesn’t say anything about the weird fluttering feeling he gets in his chest whenever he sees a text pop up on his phone. And he usually tells Tyler everything. 

Somewhere between Oklahoma and Arizona Tyler pokes him awake, his hair rumpled and his face tight. Josh blinks at him in the low light, sleep making his vision fuzzy. Tyler has a blanket clutched between his hands and as he starts to stuff it into Josh’s bunk Josh gets the idea. He scoots back until he’s flush against the wall of the bunk, giving Tyler just enough room to slide in in front of him. Tyler pulls the blanket over his legs, before reaching back for Josh’s arm and pulling it across his chest. 

“Nightmare?” Josh whispers, his lips almost brushing the shell of Tyler’s ear. 

He nods, pulling Josh’s arm tighter across his body, and Josh lets himself be draped over his best friend. Tyler’s breathing slowly returns to normal, but still Josh is awake, staring at the back of his head, hair just visible in the darkness. It’s standing on end again and Josh is hit with that thought: _ cute_. He’s suddenly very aware of every place their bodies are touching, thighs pressed against each other, Tyler’s ass in his crotch, his hand splayed over Tyler’s chest. 

Josh takes a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow, and jams his eyes shut. He and Tyler have shared beds before, even curled up in the same bunk on occasion. It’s not a new feeling to fall asleep with Tyler’s warm body pressed up against his, the other man’s chest rising and falling under his arm. Josh doesn’t know why it feels different this time, like when “wifey” pops up on his phone. He decides it’s Mark’s fault. Somehow. Though even he’s not exactly sure how. 

* * *

Every time Tyler goes out in the hamster ball Josh holds his breath. There’s an amount of joy that he feels, watching that wide smile on Tyler’s face as he takes off over the crowd. But there’s also this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, that lasts until he’s back on stage. _ What if they drop him? What if he’s hurt? _Josh tries not to think too hard about it. 

Michael elbows him in the ribs lightly. “Worried about the missus?”

Josh smiles at him widely, even if he doesn’t feel it, and rolls his eyes. “Ha ha.”

When Tyler climbs out of the ball, slapping Josh on the back lightly, he hears Michael’s voice singing in his inner ears. “Reunited and it feels so good—“

In Los Angeles they have a day off, which means they get a hotel room. Management already has a room for each of them lined up when Tyler protests. They can share, just get them two beds. Spend the money on someone else. Brad nods seriously and turns to Mark. His voice is a stage whisper at best, clearly meant for all the crew to hear. 

“They need a night to themselves.”

Mark turns to him, voice loud behind the hand blocking his mouth, and nods. “It’s so important for couples to keep things interesting in the first year.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and Josh shoots daggers at both of them but neither says anything. They’ve learned by now that their protests just encourage them, so they stop fighting it. The less they react the shorter the joke lasts. Tyler just turns back to their tour manager, insisting that it really is fine. He and Josh don’t mind, they can share. Josh wonders if there was ever point for him to disagree, not that he wanted to. 

Tyler turns to him that night, the room dark and both of them on the edge of sleep. The other queen size bed is empty, it’s covers untouched, and Josh knows it will be the same come morning, despite Tyler’s protests that it’s just for a bit. He doesn’t care, doesn’t fight him on it or give him a hard time. Truth be told he sleeps better with Tyler next to him. 

“Does it bother you?” Tyler doesn’t worry about whispering, it's just them. 

“What?” Josh keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling, even though he can feel Tyler looking at him. 

“The jokes. About us being married.”

Josh shrugs and Tyler presses. 

“We can get it annulled, if it does. I mean, I don’t care either way but…”

Josh shrugs again. “I don’t really care either. It’s whatever.”

Tyler seems content with this answer, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Not like either of us have anyone else lining up—“

“And we’re kind of stuck with each other for the foreseeable future.” Josh interrupts. 

“Right. So… whatever.” Josh nods and Tyler smiles before rolling over. “Night hubby.”

“Night w—“ Josh almost says it, but it doesn’t feel as funny in the darkness, both of them pressed between the same sheets, and he loses his nerve. “Night.”

There’s that fluttery feeling again, and it takes him much longer than usual to fall asleep. Tyler never makes it to the other bed. 

* * *

The poll’s supposed to be a joke, and for the most part, it is. But any time Tyler’s involved things get far more competitive than Josh would ever expect. He ekes out a lead for all of five minutes and Tyler pouts for a full twenty. This brings on a whole new barrage of jokes and Josh finally pulls his beanie over his eyes and ears, swearing to stay in his bunk until the show if they don’t stop. Tyler walks by, a smile on his lips, and whispers to his hulking form. 

“If you were a good husband who loved me you’d let me win.”

Josh’s head pops out to argue that he’s not even in charge of the votes but Tyler is already gone. The phrase “who loved me” bounces around in his head like that old DVD screensaver for a good hour, until Josh is moaning into his pillow. He can’t make sense of his thought processes anymore. Things that seemed flippant before suddenly have weight, every action has meaning that wasn’t there before, and Josh doesn’t know what changed. It’s still supposed to be funny. 

They end up tied, and Josh isn’t surprised. There isn’t a possible universe where he and Tyler don’t end up with the other’s name tattooed on their body. Josh tries to keep his hand from shaking as he takes the tattoo machine. He’s pretty sure Tyler notices but thankfully says nothing. It’s bad enough that they’re in front of everyone, that Tyler’s pale thigh is right next to his face, his crotch close enough that Josh could turn his head and kiss it. 

Not that he would. Just, it’s good that Tyler doesn’t take the opportunity to make fun of him right as Josh is permanently writing on his body. 

Mark, Brad, and Michael are insufferable afterwards and for the second time since their “wedding” Josh thinks about punching them. Michael makes a comment about how getting tattooed with your significant other’s name is bad luck, and Brad nods along like he isn’t the only one out of all of them to still be tattoo-less. Mark insists they should have tattooed wedding bands instead, and Tyler elbows him. Hard. The three of them dissolve into laughter again. 

Josh lays in bed that night, fighting the urge to touch his knee. The tattoo’s a little sore, but he knows the burning is all in his head. He swears he can feel the outline of every letter, like a brand on his skin. He wonders if Tyler’s feeling the same way, if he’s regretting their young and fearless impulsivity. Josh thinks about how Tyler’s name is going to be on him forever. Even when they’re old and gray, and complaining they can’t hear the other one. Tyler’s going to carry Josh with him forever. 

It’s weirdly comforting. 

They get a short break again before leaving for Europe. Josh wonders if it’ll happen this time, if they’ll find a lawyer and sign the papers. He keeps waiting for Tyler to call him with a time and place, for them to finally kill the joke, but it never comes. They leave for Scotland, still married, and tell no one. This time it feels like a secret, rather than an omission. 

Europe is fucking freezing, and Josh says that as a born and raised Ohioan. Tyler’s visits to his bunk grow more frequent, nightmares no longer plaguing him, but the night clenching cold around him. Josh doesn’t even open his eyes most times, just raises his arm and the edge of the blanket as soon as he hears a whispered _ Josh_. He usually wakes up with Tyler’s back pressed against his chest, Josh’s arm still tight across his stomach. 

In Berlin he wakes to a tickle under his chin. Tyler’s head is tucked underneath it, hair brushing against his skin, and face pressed into his sternum. He shifts slightly and sighs, throwing his leg over Josh’s under the covers. Josh is scared to move, to disturb him, but slowly draws him closer. Tyler snuggles into his chest and Josh forgets how to breathe. 

Tyler hums quietly, scooting up in the bunk until his forehead is pressed to Josh’s shoulder. “You’re warm.”

“That’s ‘cause we’re squished in here like sardines.”

“You like it.” There’s a smile in Tyler’s voice, his eyes still closed. “Say you like it.”

“I like it.” The words are barely a whisper and Tyler smiles wider, rubbing his cheek back and forth over Josh’s chest. 

“Snuggling with my husband.” His words are quiet, filled with mirth. “Don’t tell the boys, or we’ll never live it down.”

“I won’t.”

It doesn’t matter, Mark finds them a few hours later, Josh’s chest still pillowing Tyler’s head. “Sound check in an hour guys.”

Josh waits for a joke that doesn’t come. Instead Mark lets the blinds close again without another word, throwing them back into darkness. Tyler grumbles a bit before turning over and exiting the bunk. A vacuum is left in his place and Josh actually shivers. By sound check the entire crew will know how Mark found the two of them, but Josh doesn’t care. He finds he’s far more upset that they didn’t have more time to cuddle. 

* * *

Josh starts to lose track of time. It’s easy to do when they’re touring, when everything kind of melts together into one Blurryface-shaped mass. They pass on another opportunity to get the marriage annulled. And then another. Josh reasons to himself that they’re busy, they have more important things to worry about. Whether or not they officially shred a piece of paper is low on their list of priorities. 

On their last night of the South American leg Mark surprises them with a cake. They both look confused for a moment; it’s too late to celebrate Tyler and too early to celebrate Josh. When he places it down on the table in front of them the entire bus erupts into laughter. Tyler cuts himself a piece with the entire “6” inside of it and eats every bite. 

“We know your anniversary isn’t technically until next week, but we figured you’d want to celebrate just the two of you.”

Brad nods, his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Six whole months, can you believe it? Have they been as blissful as they appeared?”

This time Josh finally does punch them. 

When they arrive in Australia it’s like Josh can taste the end. He and Tyler are giddier than they’ve been in a long time, and every show gets more energy than the last. It’s not that he hates touring, in fact there’s at least twenty things that Josh really _ loves _ about it, but the lines between him and Tyler are blurrier than ever before (no pun intended), and Josh is forgetting how to live as a singular person. 

Tyler doesn’t visit his bunk as often, neither of them used to being quite so hot in April. Still, he actually starts to miss him, and as tour draws to a close Josh even thinks about inviting him. Their opportunities grow smaller as May gets closer, and Josh can’t help thinking about his empty, queen-sized bed at home. Tour has been all he’s known for the last year, he’s not sure he remembers how to function on his own. 

He finds Tyler’s beanie stuffed into his bag when he’s unpacking at home. Josh doesn’t remember stealing it and can’t figure out how it got there. Maybe Michael thought it was his and stuffed it in there? Maybe they were clearing out the bunks and Mark just shoved it into whatever bag was closest. Maybe even Tyler himself put it in there, mistaking Josh’s bag for his. Josh pulls it over his head and decides he’s not going to think about it anymore. 

Or how the beanie smells like Tyler. 

In June his lease runs out. Josh starts looking for places, now that he can afford something all to himself, but gets discouraged quickly. Nothing is really what he’s looking for, nothing feels quite like home, and Josh has a hard time convincing himself he wants to live anywhere. He’s moaning about it on Tyler’s couch one afternoon when the suggestion comes unbidden. 

“Why don’t you just move in with me? I have the other bedroom.”

“That’s not like, way too much of me?” Josh stares at him, incredulous, over the edge of the couch. 

He watches Tyler shrug before cracking open his Red Bull. “I just spent like the last year touring with you. If that’s not proof we can live together I don’t know what is.”

Josh nods and lets himself consider it. 

“Besides, you _ are _ my husband, just makes sense that we share a place.”

It’s not really funny anymore but Josh makes himself smile. Neither have brought up a lawyer and it’s been almost a month since they’d gotten home. Josh had given up waiting for Tyler’s call, the assumption made that this would be another missed opportunity. He’s not altogether upset about it, and Josh loses sleep trying to figure out why. 

“You gonna do my laundry?” Josh’s voice is surprisingly steady, considering how much his hands are shaking. 

“Nope.”

“What about a home cooked dinner every night?”

“Nope.” This time Tyler laughs. 

“You’re a terrible wife.”

Tyler eyes him over the back of the couch. “And you’re a worse husband.”

It’s supposed to be a joke. It’s all supposed to be a joke, but it’s really not that funny anymore. Tyler’s eyes are steady as they look Josh over, and Josh feels his cheeks heat in a blush. That fluttery feeling is back, and something more. Something Josh doesn’t recognize until he’s laying back down on the couch, a small tent pitched in his basketball shorts. 

It’s really not that funny anymore. 

* * *

A little bit more than a week after Josh moves in, Tyler joins him in his room for a movie. He spends about a third of it on his phone, and Josh has half a mind to smack it out of his hands, but then he puts it down on the nightstand suddenly. He scrunches down in the pillows, pulling the blanket up to his chin, and rests his head on Josh’s chest. Josh watches Tyler’s head rise and fall with each of his breaths, a warm and heavy weight against his heart. Tyler doesn’t move again for the entirety of the movie and Josh finds himself watching him instead of the TV. 

Josh nudges him once the credits begin to roll. “Ty? Movie’s over.”

Tyler sighs quietly and scoots further down into the bed, pulling Josh along with him. “Can’t I just stay here? Just for a bit.”

Josh doesn’t even tell him that he’s heard that excuse before. Or that he doesn’t believe him, not for one second. Instead he switches off the light, sliding down into the covers. Tyler hums happily and nestles up against his side, pulling Josh’s arm around his middle, as usual. His cheek is warm against Josh’s chest, and even in the darkness he feels it rise and fall with each breath. Tyler never makes it to his own bed, and Josh doesn’t complain about it. 

A few days later it’s a poke in the middle of the night. “Josh?”

He hums quietly as he turns to the sound of Tyler’s voice. “Yeah?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Josh doesn’t answer, just lifts the edge of the blanket, riding along as the mattress sags under Tyler’s weight. Tyler scoots back until they’re flush against each other, his ass in Josh’s crotch. Josh is too tired to think about his tattoo pressed into the back of Tyler’s knee. Or how he wakes up with morning wood more often than not these days, and tomorrow is going to be very awkward. 

Instead he thinks about how when he takes in a deep breath he can smell Tyler’s shampoo. Or about how Tyler hums happily when Josh throws an arm over him, unprompted. It’s just like tour again, only better, with more space to breathe, and Josh smiles. Home is wherever he’s with Tyler, whether it’s traversing the Earth or sharing the same bed. When they’re together everything’s okay. 

“Thanks hubby.” It’s a whisper, falling just as Josh nods off to sleep, and it settles over his mind like a blanket. 

When it keeps happening neither of them comment. Tyler slowly stops making his way between their rooms at night, and instead starts and ends them in Josh’s. They reason it’s less laundry, that they both sleep better together, and put the matter to bed. Literally. Tyler’s bed remains in his room, but it’s always perfectly made whenever anyone stops by. 

In July Tyler finds him in the bathroom, gloved hands covered in bright yellow dye. “Need a hand?”

Josh glances over his shoulder at him in the doorway and nods. “Please.”

Tyler steers him over the rim of the bathtub, gentle pressure on his shoulders guiding him into a cross legged position on its floor. Josh clutches an old towel around his shoulders, eyes trained on the tiled wall opposite him, and spends the next fifteen minutes painfully aware of every time Tyler’s fingers slide through his hair. He gets that tingly feeling through his head like when someone whispers near his ear, and his eyes fall shut of their own accord. 

“You ever think about shaving it?”

“Huh?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, just cocks his head slightly. 

“You ever think about shaving it?” Tyler’s voice is a bit louder this time. “You know, just starting over. With your natural hair.”

“I dunno.” Josh shrugs lightly. “Maybe. Why?”

“No reason.” Tyler’s fingers glide over the crown of his head. “I just always liked your regular hair. The curls were—“

There’s a long pause and Josh wishes he could see Tyler’s face. 

“The curls were cute.”

The word floats in the air between them. Josh feels his cheeks darken with a blush, and he thinks about all the times he’s applied that word to Tyler. He never thought that Tyler might ever apply the same word to him. Josh glances down at his hands clenched around the towel, a small smile on his face. 

“You think so?”

“Yeah. It’s one of the first things I loved about you, hubby.”

It’s not funny this time, and neither of them laugh. The nickname’s too casual, too earnest, and Josh feels that flutter when Tyler uses it. They both hardly breathe and Josh feels like he wants to say something. He wants to tell him he likes when Tyler calls him that. That he can call him that forever if he wants. That Josh doesn’t even really want out anymore. 

But he doesn’t. He lets Tyler’s fingers slide through his hair and he sighs. “That feels nice.”

It’s a cop-out. Another missed opportunity. Tyler falls asleep with his back to Josh that night, on the very edge of the bed. Josh misses that warm weight against his chest. Misses it weighing him down into the mattress. It’s the only way his mind slows down, the only way he can sleep. He doesn’t realize how much he needs Tyler until he’s not there anymore. 

* * *

Mark is the one who reminds them, the three of them in the studio one afternoon. “You know, your one year anniversary is coming up next month.”

He glances over at Tyler with a grin on his face. “Or, what _ would _ have been your one year anniversary.”

“Why do you say that?” Tyler’s face is impassive, barely looking up from the soundboard. 

“Well, you guys got it annulled right? Can’t be the anniversary of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“True.” Josh’s voice is low and Mark glances at him. 

“You guys _ did _ get it annulled right?”

“Of course.” Tyler pulls on a pair of headphones as he reaches for another knob, and none of them brings it up again the rest of the night. 

When the day finally rolls around Josh doesn’t know what to expect. Tyler could just as easily ignore it as he could put on some joking grand gesture. Josh isn’t completely sure which option he’d prefer, but when he wakes and Tyler hasn’t made him breakfast in bed it becomes clear. As the day rolls on and nothing seems out of the ordinary he starts to grow disappointed. Which is silly really, considering he didn’t organize anything either. 

When he gets home that night Tyler’s waiting at the door. He hands him a beer in a chilled glass, a smile on his lips, and Josh can’t help smiling in return. Tyler leads him to the kitchen, turning with a flourish and a “ta-da!” Arranged on the kitchen table behind him is a full meal, lit by candle light. Josh stares at it, mouth agape. 

“Surprise. Thought I’d make my husband a home-cooked meal for our anniversary.”

Josh turns pink as Tyler pulls out a chair for him. The blush deepens when Tyler pushes it in for him. 

“Ty. This is—“ Josh turns over his shoulder to smile at him. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Tyler slides into the seat across from him, smiling broadly. “You’re welcome. You deserve it. You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”

It’s the second time he’s used that word. Not in a funny way. Not in a silly nickname way. In a way that has weight, a way that holds meaning. Josh thinks about the fact that it’s true, that he’s Tyler’s husband, in the full meaning of the word. They live together, share the same bed. Josh would do anything for him, do anything to protect him. Josh loves him. 

They fill the meal with small talk, making conversation but saying nothing. Josh wonders if they’re ever going to get to the point. If after a year they’re finally going to talk about what they need to talk about. It claws at his chest, until his shirt grows tight against him, until Josh feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Why’d you say yes?”

It’s not an interruption but it doesn’t follow the conversation either, and Josh watches Tyler startle. “Say yes to what?”

“When I asked you to marry me, when we were drunk, why’d you say yes?”

“I thought it would be funny.” Josh doesn’t like that answer. 

“Why haven’t you asked me for a divorce? Or an annulment? Or whatever the hell Mark thinks we should get as a legal do-over for being drunk and stupid?”

“I don’t know I—“

“Why haven’t you asked me for a divorce, Tyler?” The question is quieter this time. He leans forward to cover Tyler’s hand with his own. “Why? Why haven’t you asked me?”

“You didn’t ask _ me_.” Tyler’s voice is defensive. He pulls his hand back into his lap and it’s loss sends Josh spinning. 

“I didn’t want to.”

It’s barely a whisper and Tyler looks him over carefully. “What?”

“I didn’t want to ask you. I didn’t want the divorce. I still— I still don’t.”

Tyler’s looking at him, his eyes soft and it makes Josh want to cry. “Josh. Why don’t you want the divorce?”

Josh looks up at him, tears starting to escape down his cheeks, and Tyler reaches out to cradle his face between his hands softly. He brushes an errant curl from Josh’s brow, smooths a thumb over his cheek. Josh thinks about him pressed up against him in their bed, their chests rising and falling together. He thinks about Tyler’s name etched on to his knee, about how Josh felt like it was _ supposed _to be there. He thinks about what he’d do if he ever lost him. 

“I’m in love with you, Tyler.”

Tyler’s face softens into a smile, his head lilting to one side. He brushes a tear off of Josh’s cheek softly, and draws their heads together until he can press their foreheads against each other. Josh’s hands come up to grasp at Tyler’s wrists, scared to let him go. They breathe in and out for a few moments, letting Josh’s declaration hang between them. Tyler pulls them apart briefly, before closing his eyes as he leans slowly forward. 

His lips are hesitant against Josh’s. They’re warm and soft, and they flutter against Josh’s lips like a heartbeat. Josh doesn’t breathe, worried that he’ll scare Tyler away, and after a moment the other man presses forward again. They both inhale sharply as their lips are pressed fully against each other. Josh squeezes lightly at Tyler’s wrists, and he takes it as an invitation. 

It’s the opposite of their official first kiss: it’s soft and slow, and just for them. Josh’s hands move around Tyler’s neck, pulling him closer until Tyler’s on the edge of his seat. They break apart for a moment, glancing down at where Tyler’s precariously balanced on the legs of his chair, before Tyler’s sliding into his lap, his arms falling to Josh’s shoulders. 

Josh’s hands fist in the soft material of his t-shirt, Tyler sighing as he settles over Josh’s hips. Their kisses grow long and lazy, leaving Josh breathless. Tyler’s fingers card through the hair at the base of his neck, twisting a curl around his finger. It’s a perfect metaphor: Tyler’s always had Josh wrapped around his finger. 

It takes him a moment to realize Tyler never said it back, and he leans out of the kiss. Tyler sees the concern in his eyes but doesn’t recognize its source. He tucks the hair behind Josh’s ears, brushes a hand over his forehead. Josh asks him again and Tyler smiles. 

“Why haven’t you asked me for a divorce, Tyler?”

“Because. I’m in love with you, Josh.”

* * *

Josh carries Tyler to his room, _ their _ room, Tyler’s legs wrapped around his waist. When the back of his knees hit the bed he sinks into it, Tyler resting on his lap again. Their lips are never parted for long, exchanging breaths in the small space between them, Josh wishing he could swallow Tyler up and keep him forever. Tyler’s hands wander over his chest and up underneath the hem of his t-shirt, white hot against his skin. Josh moans into his mouth. 

They made quick work of the t-shirt, pulling it up over Josh’s head and discarding it somewhere over the bed. Tyler pulls his off just as quickly, and Josh’s lips fall to his skin. He mouths at his nipples softly, tongue tracing over tattoo lines, and Tyler buries his hands in Josh’s hair. Josh nips lightly at his chest and Tyler moans softly, pulling back gently at Josh’s hair until he can kiss him again. 

He pushes softly until Josh lays down against the bed, climbing off his lap. Josh lifts his head, already missing the pressure across his hips, and finds Tyler’s hands at the waistband of his pants. Slender fingers slide down the zipper, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. Josh should be self-conscious, his dick already half-hard against his stomach, but he’s not. Tyler knows him. 

He watches Tyler take him in hand and groans, calloused fingers wrapping around his length. It’s too much all at once: Tyler’s tentative touch, the way he’s looking up at him through long eyelashes. When Tyler lowers his mouth and lays Josh against his tongue he cries out. It’s warm and wet, and more than Josh had ever imagined. Tyler starts to bob slowly over him, taking more and more of Josh’s dick into his mouth. 

“Tyler.” It’s a whimper, a plea. Everything is Tyler. 

He smiles around Josh’s dick in his mouth, lips tight and Josh almost loses control. “Tyler.”

When his mouth slides off Josh is hit with cold air, his hands fisting in the bedspread. His head hits the mattress, trying to keep himself steady, and then it dips below him. He lifts his head to find Tyler sinking down into his lap again, this time without his pants and underwear. Josh has seen Tyler’s dick before, it’s nothing new, and yet now it seems so beautiful Josh just has to reach out and touch. 

His hand wraps around it and Tyler’s eyes fall closed with a moan. “Josh.”

Josh gives it a few small tugs, Tyler grinding down onto him with each movement of Josh’s wrist. “Josh.”

Tyler reaches below him and takes Josh in hand again, lining up over him. Josh has a moment to feel concerned, they’ve never done this before. Tyler isn’t ready. Josh doesn’t want to hurt him. But Tyler places a hand on his chest to steady him, like he can hear his mind racing, and Josh focuses on the warm skin against his. 

“It’s okay. I’ve been practicing. Wanted to be—ready for you.”

The idea of Tyler touching himself alone, stretching himself, thinking about Josh like this is almost too much. He sinks down onto him slowly, tight delicious heat, and Josh grabs at his hips. They sit for a moment, connected, as they both catch their breath, and Josh thinks this would be enough. He’d never ask for another thing. But then Tyler starts moving. 

Josh grips onto his hips, his knees, his thighs, whatever he can reach as Tyler moves above him. His thumb traces over his name on Tyler’s thigh, where he’ll always be. Tyler’s strokes are slow and measured, never going too fast or getting too far ahead of them. Josh’s head falls back against the bed with a groan. 

Tyler fucks himself slowly, over and over on Josh’s cock. Josh watches him, breath caught in his throat, as Tyler falls more and more apart. His cheeks flush, his bottom lip between his teeth and he’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Josh slowly starts to rock his hips up to meet him, Tyler gasping each time their bodies connect. Josh is never going to last. 

Tyler lowers himself fully and leans forward, hands cupping Josh’s face. His lips are still soft against Josh’s, tongue slipping into his mouth, and Josh feels like he’s floating. Tyler rolls his hips a few more times, harder and shorter than before, and Josh feels his orgasm coiling in his abdomen. Tyler pants into his mouth, drawing closer and whispering against Josh’s lips. 

“Come with me, baby.”

He rolls his hips one more time and then they’re both gasping, wet heat pouring onto Josh’s stomach, his arms tight across Tyler’s back. Tyler rests his forehead against Josh’s chest, panting, and Josh tries to remember how to breathe. They lay there, motionless for a moment, soaking each other in. Both afraid to break the spell. 

Tyler rolls slowly, pulling Josh along with him until they’re both on their sides. He drapes a leg over Josh’s hip but doesn’t slide off of Josh’s dick. They stay connected, wrapped up around each other, the lines between them blurry again. Josh noses at him softly, Tyler sighing and lifting his chin up to give him better access. Tyler drapes his arms over Josh’s shoulders, Josh’s nose coming to rest against his collarbone. 

They sleep. 

* * *

On their five year anniversary Josh picks up a tattoo machine again. His hand is steadier this time, but he knows Tyler remembers their first. 

“Not the whole thing, just a bit. Or it’s gonna come out a total mess.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Josh’s grin is wolffish and Tyler laughs. 

“I trust you with a lot of things Josh, just maybe not this.”

Josh shrugs, his face the picture of indifference and Tyler gives his arm a squeeze. Tyler’s hand is splayed out over the table, palm up, and Josh runs a finger from his wrist to the end of his ring finger. The hand curls unconsciously, Tyler laughing, and Josh winks at him. The tattoo artist at his shoulder clears his throat quietly and Josh settles into his chair. No room for error. Can’t screw this up. 

The machine buzzes to life with the artist’s foot on the pedal and Josh leans forward. His face is only inches from Tyler’s skin, and he can smell his body wash. They’d taken an extra long shower that morning, everyone giving them the most privacy they could in the middle of a tour that was sparse with it. Josh focused on the light blue line across Tyler’s finger, on what he was about to do. Tyler’s skin is soft below the needle, and Josh watches a thick black line appear under his hand. 

When it’s his turn Tyler gives his task the same amount of consideration. His tongue peeks out from between his teeth, his face a mask of concentration and Josh holds himself back. When he lifts the needle from his skin Josh leans forward, placing a kiss at Tyler’s temple. He smiles, tongue still between his teeth, and lowers the needle again to finish his mark. It comes out straighter than Josh’s attempt, and he knows he’ll never hear the end of it. 

Ever. 

They leave the shop a hundred dollars poorer, smiles wide across their faces. Tyler keeps twisting his hand in front of his face, the tegaderm turning shiny in the sun. Josh doesn’t have to look at his, he feels it, like a ribbon tied around his finger. Sometimes he still thinks he can feel the outline of “Tyler” across his knee, like if he reaches down the lines will still be raised under his finger tips. There’s a part of him that hopes the line around his ring finger will never heal completely. That he’ll be able to feel it, even with his eyes closed, forever. 

“What do you think Mark’s going to say?” Tyler glances over at him, finally lowering his hand so that he can take hold of Josh’s. 

“Probably that we’re stupid, lovey dovey idiots.”

“We are that.” Tyler leans against him softly, his other hand gripping at Josh’s upper arm. 

“And that we’re probably going to have to explain the tattoos at some point.”

“We will. When we’re ready.” Tyler’s voice is confident, sure in a way that makes Josh’s heart swell. He never has to wonder with Tyler anymore. 

“It’s gonna be a hell of a story.” Josh smiles down at him and Tyler turns to him, laughing, before pressing his lips to his in a soft kiss. 

“Definitely.” 


End file.
